


Checks and Balances

by LiteraryFaerie



Category: Batgirl (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, Nightwing (Comics)
Genre: Alternate Universe, And Dick is a wholesome himbo, Barbara is like a badass combination of AOC and Elizabeth Warren, Combining my passion for politics and comics into a self-indulgent niche au, Congresswoman Barbara Gordon, F/M, Kind of enemies to lovers, Not yet sure if this will be a one shot or a longer story, Political AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 06:14:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25489813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LiteraryFaerie/pseuds/LiteraryFaerie
Summary: Barbara Gordon is the youngest Congresswoman in Gotham's history, the progressive upstart who unseated one of the city's most powerful Representatives and is trying to break billionaires and big corporations' hold on Washington. Dick Grayson is the adopted son of the richest man in Gotham. When they meet a gala, sparks fly.
Relationships: Barbara Gordon/Dick Grayson
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Checks and Balances

**Author's Note:**

> A dickbabs story with a modern take on Barbara's brief Bronze Age stint as a Congresswoman.

“Congressman Dent!” Barbara grabbed Harvey Dent by the elbow, pulling him away from a gaggle of socialites. “I’ve been looking for you all night.” 

Dent looked considerably less happy to see her. “Congresswoman Gordon. I was… ah… in the middle of a conversation. Let’s talk later…” He began to back away. 

Barbara groaned internally. “The only reason I came to this fundraiser was because you said we could talk.” 

“Later—”

“You promised you’d help me with my bill—” 

Dent rolled his eyes. “Christ Gordon, would it kill you to take a break for a few hours?”

“But—"

Dent cut Barbara off. “You’re currently rubbing elbows with the most powerful people in Gotham, at least act like you enjoy it. Who knows, maybe some of them will help you with your little bill.” 

“Sure.” Barbara snorted. She doubted Gotham’s elite would be lining up to support her anti-corruption bill. It was wealthy families like these who pulled strings in Washington in order to preserve their own power. 

“You should smile more.” Dent grabbed a glass of wine from a passing server’s tray and shoved into Barbara’s hand. “It would make you more approachable.”  
He was gone before Barbara could even begin to respond to that, which was honestly probably for the best. 

She sighed took and swig of wine, wondering how much the bottle it came from had cost. Probably more than she and most of the people she had known growing up made in a year. 

Dent’s dismissal was hardly surprising, if sill frustrating. Representative Harvey “Two-Face” Dent was an old-school career politician who relied on Gotham’s Wealthiest families to fund his reelection campaigns. He didn’t have much incentive to ally himself with the upstart who had primaried his colleague earlier that year. 

Barbara was honestly more upset with herself and her own naivete than she was with Dent. She’d been fooled by his hollow promises and wasted a perfectly good evening. 

She fidgeted from one foot to the other, wishing she hadn’t let Dinah bully her into wearing heels. “But your legs look so _good_!” Her Chief of Staff had insisted over Barbara’s protests. After much back-and-forth, the two of them had compromised on Barbara’s outfit, a green pencil dress and black blazer. 

Now, Barbara had to admit that she stood out like a sore thumb in the sea of floor length evening gowns and tuxedos. But really, what did it matter? She wasn’t here to befriend any of these people, much less ask them for donations. 

“Enjoying the party?” A young man had approached Barbara while she was lost in thought. He was almost unfairly good-looking, with bronze skin, black hair that could only be described as “wind-tussled”, and a dazzlingly bright grin belonged in a toothpaste commercial. 

He looked vaguely familiar, but Barbara couldn’t place a name to his face. All she knew was that being hit on by some trust fund baby was the last thing she wanted right now.  
“No, I’m not.” Barbara said, giving him her iciest glare and hoping the message was clear: _Not interested pal. Move along._

Either the man was exceptionally stupid or exceptionally persistent, because he seemed completely unperturbed by Barbara’s rudeness. “Oh thank god,” He said “I thought I was the only one who couldn’t stand these things.” 

That was… not the response Barbara had expected. “You’re not… happy to be here either?” 

He nodded. “If I have to sit through one more talk about thousand-dollar handbags or private schools—”

Barbara rolled her eyes. “Or where to take your yacht on vacation.”

The man’s blue eyes twinkled with amusement. He adopted a falsetto and gesticulated wildly “Oh you simply _must_ go to Fiji, it’s divine this time of year, and so few tourists…” 

A laugh escaped from Barbara’s lips before she could quash it. 

The man’s grin widened, and Barbara blushed. He really was very handsome. Not that she cared. 

“Barbara Gordon.” She extended a hand towards the stranger. 

“Dick Grayson” His grip was callused, nothing like Barbara would have expected from a pampered socialite. 

_Grayson…_

Where had she heard that name before? 

“So, you’re _that_ Barbara Gordon?” Dick smiled. “I have to admit I’m surprised to see you here, especially after you called big donor galas ‘emblematic of everything broken in our political system’.”

Barbara raised one eyebrow. “You read my op-ed in the Gotham Gazette?” 

“You sound so surprised!” 

“This isn’t exactly my crowd.” Barbara gestured to the room full of very elderly, very wealthy Gothamites. “In fact, I’m only here as a favor to a colleague.” 

“Congressman Dent?” Barbara’s facial expression must have betrayed her disdain, because Dick laughed. “Old Two-Face is certainly something.”

Barbara sighed. “Dent is just a symptom of a broader cause. So long as the wealthy are allowed to exert outsize influence on politics, the only people who make it into office are going to be sycophants who spend their days cozying up to billionaires instead of actually representing their constituents’ interests.” 

“An inspiring speech.” Dick seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, and, for the first time, Barbara wondered if this evening wouldn’t be such a waste after all. “But don’t we owe the people at this gala some crediting for building Gotham as we know it today?”

“Working people built Gotham. All these powerful families— the Kanes and the Drakes and the Madisons and the Waynes— just took the credit and the profits.” 

“Bruce Wayne is a philanthropist and an activist. He wants to make Gotham a better place.” Dick sounded defensive, but Barbara was on too much of a roll to pay attention. 

“Bruce Wayne is a useless playboy who can barely run his own company, let alone give back to Gotham in any meaningful way.” 

Dick’s face shuttered, and it finally hit Barbara. 

She finally remembered where she had seen Dick before— his face plastering the front page of Gotham Tabloids, at the annual police ball her father had dragged her to each year when they were both still kids. 

_Grayson…_

Richard “Dick Grayson”, the eldest adopted son of Bruce Wayne. 

Well shit.

Barbara felt the sting of betrayal. Had Dick been laughing at her this whole time as she cluelessly bashed Gotham’s elite, unaware that he was the son of the wealthiest man in Gotham? 

“I need to go.” She said, turning to leave. 

“Wait—” Dick reached for her arm, but Barbara took another step back. 

“Oh no.” Barbara gave him the cutting grin she reserved for her political opponents and particularly condescending journalists. “It sounds like you and your Dad are busy saving the world. I wouldn’t want to interrupt you.” 

The Next Day  
Barbara threw her phone down with a clatter, hanging up with more vigor than was probably necessary. She had spent all morning on the phone with fellow Senators, trying to drum up support for her anti-corruption bill. 

One would think that a law intended to make politicians accountable to the people they were actually supposed to represent instead of lobbyists and billionaires would be common sense, and yet. 

“Hey Babs,” Barbara’s Chief of Staff, Dinah Lance, walked into her office. “There’s a Dick Grayson here to see you.” 

Barbara groaned and buried her head in her hands. This was exactly what she did _not_ need right now. “Tell him I’m busy.” 

“I tried. Before that, Steph tried. But he was quite insistent.” Dinah gave Barbara a sidelong glance. “He’s cute. And he brought flowers.” 

Barbara suddenly very much wished that the floor would swallow her whole. “Definitely not my type. And besides, I bashed his dad in front of him last night.” 

“You’re blushing!” Dinah crowed. 

“I am not!” 

“Yes, you are! Barbara recognized the impatience in Dinah’s voice, usually directed towards particularly obnoxious reporters. “For god’s sake Babs, just talk to him. Where’s the harm in that?” 

“Fine” Barbara rose to her feet, knowing she was probably going to regret this. 

Despite herself, she really had enjoyed Dick’s company last night before it all went south. And while she had no intention of apologizing for her remarks about Bruce Wayne, she did admit that her abrupt departure was rude. 

Like Dinah said, she would just talk to him. What was the worst that could happen?


End file.
